A Tragic Reunion
by brokenmoonlight
Summary: Steam enveloped him as he stepped onto the fluffy bath-mat, and for a moment, held in its embrace, he felt safe...
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I'm sorry, I'm being cruel to Vince – again. I must be sick, obviously. This'll just be a two part story though. I'm quite hungry, by the way, and reviews are very filling...**

**Dedicated to my wonderful little LJ family. You know who you are!**

**Disclaimer: La, la, la, not mine.**

**xxxx**

When Howard arrived home to silence, he wasn't too worried. Bouncing happily up the stairs with a bag of shopping, he swung round the bannister into the living room, jumping slightly when he saw Vince sat on the sofa. That was odd. Vince was supposed to be out with his parents, or at least _in _with his parents. He'd been so excited about finally getting to meet them, that surely it wouldn't have been over with _that_ quickly. Howard had never asked too many questions about Vince's family, and Vince himself hadn't even known that much about them. He'd been taken into care as a baby when his mother had given birth at seventeen and she and Vince's father couldn't afford to care for him. From then on, he'd been from foster home to foster home, only really getting close to Bryan Ferry, but even that hadn't lasted forever. It saddened Howard that Vince had never been adopted. He was in no doubt that he'd been a beautiful baby. Maybe adoptions hadn't been in demand so much in those days...

Vince was being uncharacteristically quiet.

"Vince?"

The smaller man didn't acknowledge him, just continued to stare straight ahead at a fixed point on the wall. Howard moved round the sofa, his eyes holding on Vince's face, which was worryingly pale and drawn. His hair was messed up, eyes watery and red, and there was dried blood on his... Fuck. Howard threw his bag down and knelt down in front of Vince, noticing, now he was closer, that he was trembling. He put a hand on Vince's knee, bringing him back to reality with a jump.

"Hey, little man."

"Howard." A whisper, so thin and broken that Howard's stomach twisted and churned like he'd just gone over a big drop on a roller-coaster. He was afraid to ask, but he didn't have much choice.

"What happened, Vince?"

Vince moved let his head drop slightly, his eyes blearily trying to focus on Howard's. His breathing was shallow and he looked very much like he was about to be sick.

"A-accident." His voice wobbled dangerously, teeth digging hard into his bottom lip to stop the unravelling he obviously so desperately needed.

Howard brought a hand up to Vince's face to brush his hair back, tucking the longer bits behind his ear. "It's okay. Take your time."

Vince swallowed heavily, tears silently spilling over the rims of his eyes and tracking down his face, leaving marks against the dirt and blood. "They're d-dead. I was in the shop and I heard this crash and t-the car... I ran out and the car... a-and there was glass everywhere and all the metal was twisted from where the other car had smashed into it," he whispered painfully, the fingers of one of his hands unconsciously digging into his wrist, the nails leaving imprints in the skin. Howard saw what he was doing and gently took hold of his hands to stop him from hurting himself. He felt light-headed and queasy, but Vince needed him and he couldn't let it show. He opened his mouth, and it took a few attempts before he could get any words out, his tongue sticking to the dryness inside.

"I – Jesus. Vince, I'm –"

"She spoke to me."

"What?"

"My mum. My dad, he was killed instantly. Oh, God, there was so much blood... And my mum – she was just layin' there, and she saw me and... she smiled. And I held her hand and tried to tell her it would be okay, and she told me she was so happy she got to see me. She was cryin', but she couldn't breathe properly and she squeezed my hand so tight and said she'd always loved me an' that she was sorry but she only wanted what was best for me. Her eyes were all out of focus and I wasn't sure if she could even see me anymore, but she told me she and dad were proud of me, an' I said I loved her, cos it's true. I know it sounds silly, but she's me mum and it just felt right. She tried to smile at me again, and then her eyes closed and... Oh..." Vince breathed in sharply then, as if someone had just punched him. He dropped forward, Howard catching him and holding him tight as sobs wracked through his body. He wanted to say something, _anything, _but he was so worried about saying the wrong thing that all he could do was rub Vince's back and stroke his hair. Vince's shoulders were heaving violently, his face buried against Howard's neck, hands clawing at his arms, fingers twisting and pulling at the material of his coat. "When I was at the hospital I met my brother and sister, and my sister screamed at m-me and said it was all my fault!" Vince sobbed, coughing as he tried to breathe, gasping in air like it was going out of fashion. "And she's right, cos if I had never replied to them they would still be here!"

Howard took hold of Vince's shoulders and pushed him gently but firmly backwards, just enough so he could look him in the face. "That is not true. Don't you ever think, for even a _second_, that any of this is your fault. She's angry and grieving and took it out on you, but it's not true, d'you hear me? She knows that, your brother knows that, and you must know that too. Vince, I'm so, so sorry. I'm sorry -"

'Howard?"

"Yeah, little man?"

"Do you think they'll let me go to the funeral?"

Howard nodded. "Of course. They couldn't stop you anyway, right?"

Vince took in a shuddering breath and looked down at his stained clothes. "I should have a shower. You won't go anywhere, will you?"

"I'll be right here." He gave Vince a reassuring squeeze and then let him go. It wasn't fair, he thought. Vince had been so ecstatic when his parents had found him, swapping numbers via letter and then spending hours on the phone, going through every detail of their lives. Then three weeks later they were finally ready to meet, and Vince's mum and dad had driven down from where they were now living in Oxford. Vince hadn't been quite sure what he was going to do when they arrived, so Howard had gone out that morning, ushering Naboo and Bollo out at the same time, to give Vince time to sort himself out and calm his nerves. He'd spent the whole day in a glorious mood, so happy that his friend was finally getting to meet his parents. He'd never even thought for a second that he'd return home later that evening to find that tragedy had intervened and cruelly ripped the day apart. And not just the day, but a family. A family ripped apart, all over again. Howard got up and wandered over to the kitchen. He flipped the kettle on, then switched it off two seconds later. He couldn't stomach tea right now, but needing something to do, he poured himself a glass of water, just to wet his dry mouth. He briefly wondered if he should make Vince something to eat, but he didn't want it to seem like he was fussing, but then he didn't want Vince to think he didn't care. Maybe he'd make him something simple and then put it in the fridge until he wanted it. A sandwich – that was simple enough. Howard took the bread from the cupboard along with a jar of peanut butter and some jam and placed them on the counter top while he got out a plate and knife. About halfway through spreading the jam on the bread, Howard sighed heavily and chucked the knife into the sink. Vince's parents had just been killed and here he was making him his favourite sandwich, as if it would magically make everything better. Howard chucked the half-made sandwich into the bin, placed the bread and jars back in the cupboard and abandoned the plate in the sink. God, he felt useless. His eyes watered as he thought about how Vince had had to watch his parents die, about how frightened he must have been. No one should ever have to see that, but Vince... he might do grown-up things and surround himself with glamour, but deep down he was vulnerable and sensitive, affected by years of being passed from one family to another. He never spoke about it, but Howard knew. It was why Vince was so ridiculously over the top, although, when he really thought about it, Howard wouldn't change him for the world, even if he did frequently annoy the hell out of him. He supposed, in a way, that _he _was Vince's family. No, not just him – Naboo and Bollo too. And he was proud of that, but Vince had been given the chance to find out where he'd come from, to get to know about all these people who shared his blood who he'd never known existed. Part of that, the most important part, had been snatched away in the blink of an eye. And it wasn't just Vince – he had siblings who'd also lost their mum and dad, maybe even aunts and uncles and grandparents, a whole... family. Howard really didn't understand life sometimes. He sat down in the battered leather armchair by the window, the water running in the bathroom the only sound disturbing the eerie peace of the flat, and stared out into night, the first snow of the winter just beginning to fall.

xxxx

Vince leant heavily against the shower wall, the hot water pounding down over his back and trickling down his legs. He stared down at the plug-hole and watched as the dirt was washed away, the water changing from murky to clear. The clothes he had been wearing lay in a crumpled heap near the door, and Vince had already decided that they were going to be thrown away. He could clean them, but the thought of wearing something that had once held the blood of his parents made him feel more than just a little sick. Those clothes would always be a reminder of what had happened – he couldn't just wash them and pretend they were all shiny and new. They held memories now, awful memories that would haunt him for life. Vince finished washing, the shower squeaking slightly as he turned it off. Steam enveloped him as he stepped onto the fluffy bath-mat, and for a moment, held in its embrace, he felt safe. It soon dispersed though, and upon catching his reflection in the mirror, reality came crashing back in the most unwelcome way. Everyone always thought Vince was lucky, that everything just fell into his lap. What on earth was lucky about this? His mum and dad had finally found him, and now he'd never be able to get to know them, never be able to spend a Christmas with them or... Vince swiped at his eyes and dried himself off as quickly as he could, not wanting to be alone any longer and desperate to get rid of his clothes so he didn't have to keep looking at them. When it came to it though, he couldn't touch them, and he felt an awful guilt at the fact that he would have to ask Howard to do it for him.

xxxx

Howard was so preoccupied with his thoughts as he stared out the window that he didn't realise Vince had entered the room until he was standing right in front of him. He looked up at the smaller man sympathetically, a little taken aback by his appearance. Vince's damp hair clung to his pale face, an old pair of jeans and a Stones t-shirt hanging from his slight frame, eyes tired, sunken against the dark circles underneath. Howard gave him a small smile.

"Hey."

Vince fidgeted a bit, his hands twisting the fabric of his tee. "Could you... Can you do something for me?"

Howard stood up and stepped towards him. "Anything."

"My clothes are on the bathroom floor, but I don't want to touch them. Can you throw them away for me?"

"Throw them away?"

"Yeah. I don't -" he choked a bit then, and Howard put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently.

"I'll see to it."

Vince couldn't watch as Howard put the clothes in a bin bag and tied a knot in it. He listened to his footsteps on the stairs as he went to put the bag outside for the bin-men, heard the slight chatter of his teeth from the bitter coldness as he came back in, and then the running of the bathroom tap as he washed his hands. He felt the dip of the sofa as the bigger man sat down next to him, and the coolness of his skin as he took his hand. Vince looked up at him.

"Thank you."

"Is there anything else I can do?"

Vince gave a Howard a closed-mouth smile. "Bring them back?"

Howard cast his gaze to the floor awkwardly and Vince shook his head. "I'm sorry," he said, quietly.

Howard tightened his grip on Vince's hand and brought his gaze back up to look at him. "Don't be."

"I-I don't know what to do."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, I'm not sure what I'm supposed to feel. It's like I don't feel I have the right to grieve because I didn't really know them, like I'm being disrespectful to the rest of the family, who knew them all their lives. I'm just an outsider who suddenly appeared and -"

"Vince?"

"Yeah?"

"Of course you're allowed to grieve. It doesn't matter if you knew them five minutes or your whole life. They're your parents and you're their son and that gives you _every _right. None of this is your fault, and I don't want you feeling like you're not allowed to be sad. No one has the right to tell you how you can and can't feel, okay?"

Vince mulled this over silently for a few seconds. Howard was right – of course he was. "Howard? Can I have a hug?"

Instantly, Howard pulled him into his arms, Vince's head resting under his chin. He placed a chaste kiss against his drying hair and ran a hand through the ends of it, unconsciously separating the strands so they didn't knot. His other hand settled across Vince's back, rubbing small, comforting circles. Vince had his arms wrapped around Howard's waist, half sitting on his lap, the contact braking his resolve and making him cry again. Howard rocked him gently until he quietened, and a quick glance downwards told him that Vince had fallen asleep. Rather than move him, Howard leaned right back into the sofa, so Vince was laying against him, and stared up at the ceiling in thought.

He'd get Vince through this – he had too.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thank you for your lovely reviews! Here's the concluding part.**

**xxxx**

_Vince..._

_Vince..._

_Vince..._

Vince jumped violently as a hand squeezed at his shoulder, and as his fight or flight instincts battled for dominance, he quickly realised that the person standing behind him was, in fact, just Howard. He visibly relaxed and turned his head to be met with a concerned frown from the bigger man.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. What you doing?" Howard asked softly, moving round to join Vince where he was sitting up on his bed, leaning on the windowsill.

Vince turned his head back to the window. "Just watching the snow. It's weird, isn't it? Everything look so beautiful - like magic, like... like that bit in Narnia when they first go through the wardrobe, and it's just snow and ice and peacefulness, and it's so breathtaking that it makes you blind to everything that's wrong, and it's like everything's perfect and calm. But it's not, is it? It's not perfect, because it's just hiding death and destruction and -"

"Shhh, come here," Howard said, pulling Vince into his arms. "You can't start linking scenes like this with tragedy, otherwise you'll never be able to enjoy it again. Your parents wouldn't want that."

"I know, but it just seems so wrong. It should be thunderin' and rainin' and blowin' a gale, but it's just calm. The snow and the stars... they say beauty hides ugliness, don't they?"

Howard picked up Vince's hand and linked their fingers together, studying them intently. "That might be true of some things, but it's not fact. Plenty of things are beautiful inside and out."

Vince shifted slightly so he could look up at his friend. "Like what?"

"Like..." _You?_ "sunsets."

"Sunsets? They just make you forget for a second about all the bad things going on in the world. It temporarily brain washes you, is all."

Howard blinked at him. "Vince, you're grieving and of course everything is going to seem different, but you can't make everything seem like a cover-up, otherwise you'll go mad. And besides, it's not who you are. Think of it like this. The good things aren't hiding the bad things – they're just reminding you that the good things still exist, that, no matter how awful things get, there will _always _be something to live for. Sunsets aren't there to blind-side you, they're there to show you that this world still has some beauty left in it. It's asking you to believe that, eventually, things _will _get better. And that magical winter landscape out there is asking you that too and – what?"

Vince was grinning up at him, his eyes sparkling from unshed tears. "You'll talk any old rubbish just to cheer me up, won't you?"

"It's not rubbish!" But Howard relented all the same, because Vince was smiling, and that had been his mission in the first place. Much to his disappointment though, the smile soon faded. "What is it, little man?"

Vince rubbed at his eyes with his free hand and sighed sadly. "Do you think I should go tomorrow?"

The funeral. Vince's brother, Ryan, had called a few days ago with the date, and Howard was very glad he'd been the one to take the call, because all hell was breaking loose in the background, Vince's sister, Lizzie, yelling that Vince wasn't welcome whilst her brother tried desperately to shush her. She might be grieving, but Howard definitely wasn't looking forward to meeting her. Then a few hours later there had been another call, which Howard again fielded, only this time it was from Vince's grandmother. Howard had been surprised, because Vince hadn't had any contact with her yet, but she told him to pass on the message that Vince was wanted there and Lizzie would just have to deal with it.

"Of course you should. You'll regret it if you don't. And I'll be right with you."

Vince leant his head against Howard's shoulder. "I'm scared."

"I know," Howard said, running a hand through Vince's bed-messed hair. "It's okay to be scared." They sat there a few minutes longer, until Howard felt Vince start to loll against him. "Come on - bed. We have to get up in a few hours."

Vince mumbled a weak protest, but let Howard guide him back into bed all the same.

xxxx

"Howard, I can't do this – I can't!"

They were sitting in the van a little way up the road from the church, and Vince was starting to panic, his breathing quickening until Howard was sure he was going to pass out. He put his hands on Vince's shoulders and turned him to face him.

"Vince, calm down," he said, although he couldn't fail to notice how the smaller man was trembling, his eyes about to overflow with tears. "Take deep breaths... that's it. Look, I'm not going to make you go in there, but this is about what _you _want – forget everyone else. If you want to go in there and say good-bye, then do it."

Vince burst into tears and Howard instantly berated himself for sounding so harsh. "I'm sorry," he said, bringing his hands up to Vince's face and wiping away his tears. Vince shook his head.

"No, no, it's not you. You're right. It's just -"

"I know, you don't have to explain." He looked out of the window and saw that people were starting to go into the church. "Ready?"

Vince rubbed at his face and gave Howard a wobbly smile. "Yeah."

Outside, Howard took Vince's hand and they walked up the snowy path to the church. They sat at the back, Vince not wanting to upset anyone by sitting in front of people who had known them longer, and he dipped his face as the stood when the coffins were brought in, followed by the family. He risked a glance towards them, and saw his sister glaring at him as she held onto her brothers arm. Vince's breath caught in his throat and Howard looked at him and squeezed his hand tight, then turned back towards Lizzie, giving her a hard stare as she walked passed. She went to pull back, but Ryan noticed what was going on and pulled her along with him, whispering in her ear. Whatever he'd said made her look even more furious, but she didn't try anything else. Vince was shaking, looking ashamed of himself, and it broke Howard's heart.

The service went by smoothly after that, until the end of Ryan's eulogy to his parents when he decided to add a bit onto the end, which, by the look on Lizzie's face, had definitely _not _been discussed beforehand.

"I'd also like to take the opportunity to welcome our brother, Vince, into the family. I know that this isn't the ideal time or place, but I know it's what mum and dad would have wanted. He's there, at the back." Everyone turned in their seat and Vince blushed, trying not to catch anyone's eye. Then everyone turned back round as there was a commotion at the front as Lizzie stood up and tried to move her brother away from the podium before he said anything else. Then she shrieked loudly, her voice ringing through the church.

"But it's all his fault!"

Vince flinched and Howard took hold of his arm.

"Lizzie, stop it!" Ryan tried to get her to sit down, but she struggled against him violently, tears streaming down her face.

"You traitor! How can you stand there and say that when he killed our parents?!"

"He didn't kill them!"

"He didn't have to write back to them! He could have just left it!" she sobbed, as she was told to sit down and shut up by several furious members of her family.

Before Howard could do anything, Vince had clambered over him and bolted out of the church doors.

"That's it, run away, KILLER!"

Howard, who was about to run out after Vince, turned around angrily and walked towards Lizzie. "How dare you?! Do you have any idea what it took for him to be here today?! Vince has done nothing wrong and you should be ashamed of yourself for behaving this way at your parent's funeral – is this any way to say good-bye to them? Do you think they'd want this? They wanted to find their son, your _brother_, and all you can do is snipe and bitch and blame him for something that he had no control over! He watched them die, your mum telling him she'd always loved him. You've always had that love, but Vince had only just found it. He had to witness that awful accident and all you can do is scream at him. What if it was you? How would you be feeling now?" Howard turned on his heel and stormed out of the church, running once he was outside to where Vince was sat on the icy ground in a heap, sobbing loudly. There was blood on the palms of his hands and Howard took hold of them gently, pulling Vince up from the wet floor and into his arms.

"H-howard..."

"Shhh, it's all right, I've got you, I'm right here. What happened?"

"I s-slipped."

"Okay, let me have a look," he said, examining Vince's hands closely.

"I just want to go home. I knew this was a stupid idea."

Howard looked up and studied his face for a second, then realised there was no way he could make him stay. He put an arm round Vince's shoulders and let him lean into him as they walked towards the van.

"Vince!"

Ryan was running towards them, looking completely torn apart.

"Vince, please don't go."

Vince just shook his head, unable to speak as his brother came to a stop in front of them.

"I'm so sorry about Lizzie – I don't know what's got into her. But I want you to come back inside. We want you there. Gran's devastated that she might have just lost the chance to get to know you."

"She hasn't," Vince whispered, looking down at his feet.

Howard looked from Vince to Ryan, and saw just how alike they looked. Ryan's hair was cropped and lighter in colour, and he was a little bit taller, but their eyes were the same, and the rest of their facial features weren't so different either. He'd even seen Vince in Lizzie when he was shouting at her.

"Vince, please come back in."

"I can't. I'm sorry."

Ryan nodded in defeat. "I'm gonna strangle Lizzie."

"She's upset."

"That's no excuse. Listen, I'll call you, yeah? When all this has settled down. Then we can get to know each other properly. I always wanted a big brother."

Vince gave Ryan a watery smile, which was returned enthusiastically. A slight shift beside him reminded him that Howard was still next to him. "Ryan, this is Howard, my best friend."

Ryan held his hand out. "Nice to meet you, Howard."

Howard looked a bit flushed. "I'm sorry for my outburst earlier."

"Don't be. We were all thinking it."

"Outburst?" Vince asked, looking confused.

"I'll let Howard explain, I'd best get back in. Take care, yeah?" He placed a hand on Vince's arm, then turned and walked back towards the church. He stopped before he went through the door to call over his shoulder. "I'm glad you came." Then he disappeared inside.

Vince stared at the door for a second, then tugged on Howard's hand. "Home."

xxxx

Howard was sat at the kitchen table, one hand supporting his chin and the other absently stirring a teaspoon around his mug. It was a few days after the funeral and Vince was once again holed up in the bedroom, not doing much of anything. Howard sighed and decided to take some tea into him, suddenly wondering why he needed to find excuses to go and see him. He poured another mug and walked to the bedroom, hovering outside the door for a moment. _Oh, for goodness sake_. Howard knocked on the door and then walked in. Vince was sat on his bed in his pyjamas, once again staring out of the window at the snow, 'Friday I'm In Love' by The Cure playing quietly in the background.

"Hey, little man. I've brought you some tea."

Vince gave him a tired smile and then went back to looking out the window. Howard placed the tea next to him on the ledge.

"Anything interesting out there?"

"Howard," Vince suddenly said, ignoring the question.

"Yeah?"

"Can we... Can we go to the graveyard? I know it's a way to go, but..."

Howard sat down next to him on the bed. "Of course we can."

"Can we go today?"

Howard told Vince he'd give him an hour to sort himself out, knowing he was probably too tired to rush about.

Vince was ready in ten minutes.

"That was quick," Howard commented as Vince appeared in the living room.

"Is that all right? If you need more time -"

"No, it's fine," he smiled, noting that Vince was now dressed in his normal clothes, although his face was clear of any make-up and his hair was brushed though and left to its own devices. Even so, he still looked better than most people.

On the way to Oxford they stopped at a florist so Vince could buy some lilies.

"Do you think anyone else will be there?" Vince asked as he climbed back into the van, clutching the flowers as if they were the most precious thing in the world.

"There might be. If there is, we can always keep our distance until they've gone."

"Yeah, I suppose."

As it turned out, the graveyard was empty save for someone walking their dog through it. Vince walked slowly towards where he knew the plot was, icy snow crunching under his boots as he trod carefully. Howard trailed a bit behind, not wanted to intrude, but feeling too protective to leave Vince alone. A wooden cross marked the spot where the double grave was, the headstone having not yet been erected. Vince laid the flowers on the ground and stood silently for a minute or so, before turning around and holding his hand out to Howard. Howard walked over and grabbed hold of it.

"It's weird," Vince said as he started down at the mound covered in white, the pink of the lilies standing out against the starkness.

"I know."

After a while they were both starting to shiver violently in the cold. Vince said an emotional good-bye to his parents, then wiped his eyes, smiled at Howard, and suggested they drink to them with a hot chocolate. Howard thought that was a very good idea, but just as they were turning to leave, they came face to face with Lizzie. Vince faltered.

"We were just leaving." He walked off, pulling Howard with him, head down as he strode purposefully away.

"Vince! Wait."

Vince stopped, but he didn't turn around.

"I'm sorry." Lizzie hesitated for a moment, then walked up to him. "Vince."

He stared at her uncertainly, Howard's hand tightening in his own.

"Look, I know you probably don't want to talk to me. To be honest, I wouldn't want to talk to me either. My behaviour was appalling and there's no excuse for it. I know I humiliated you, and I'm sorry, I really am."

Vince regarded her emotionlessly for a moment, then he smiled softly. "How are you?"

Lizzie looked taken aback, as if she'd been expecting Vince to have a go at her. "Oh, you know... You?"

"Same."

Lizzie caught Howard's eye. The man himself had been doing his best to keep his gaze away from her and stay out of it. He was proud of Vince's capacity to forgive so easily, but he didn't possess the same quality.

"Hello, Howard."

"Hi."

"I see it's going to be a tough job, winning you over," she said, a slight laugh in her voice as she tried to lighten the mood.

Howard managed to offer a small smile in return.

"Well, listen, um, Ryan and I were thinking about coming down to London to see you sometime, if that's okay?"

"Yeah, I'd like that," Vince said, still looking slightly nervous, as if he were expecting her to change moods at any moment, like some sort of Jeykll and Hyde character.

Howard let go of Vince's hand and gave his arm a quick squeeze. "I'll meet you at the van." He nodded to Lizzie, then turned and stalked off, wrapping his coat tighter around himself in a vain attempt to keep out the cold.

"Sorry, he's just..."

"Protective?"

Vince blushed slightly. "Yeah."

Lizzie smiled. "So, is he your boyfriend?"

Vince blushed even harder. "No, he's not."

"Mmm. Well, he's good for you, I can tell. I like him."

Vince found he was no longer cold, the heat from his face burning him so intensely that he couldn't be sure he wouldn't pass out. He cleared his throat. "Well, I'd better be..." he gestured behind him.

"Oh, sure. I'll call soon and we can arrange something."

"I'll look forward to it."

The both stood awkwardly for a moment, until Vince smiled and turned away. He'd just reached the path when he heard;

"Wait!"

He spun back round to see Lizzie running towards him. She flung her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. Vince slid his arms around her back, tears springing to his eyes. When they pulled away Lizzie gave him a watery smile.

"Thank you."

"What for?"

"For being with them."

Vince understood what she meant perfectly. Lizzie swiped at her eyes with her coat sleeve and stepped back.

"Take care."

"You too."

Howard already had the engine going when Vince got back, trying desperately to heat the van up.

"That seemed to go well," he said, as Vince slid in next to him.

Vince smiled and rubbed his gloved hands together. "Yeah, it did. You know, she thought you were my boyfriend."

"Oh, did she now?" Howard replied, trying to sound calm and collected, even though he could feel himself burning up.

"Yup."

Howard pulled out into the road as Vince flipped on the radio, glancing to his side to see the younger man smiling to himself, a redness in his cheeks that hadn't been there before.

xxxx

Later that night the boys were sat comfortably on the sofa, flicking through the TV. Vince had just got off the phone to his grandmother, and on the whole looked a lot happier.

"She wants to have us over for dinner. Says she's going to bake one of her famous apple and blackberry pies. Apparently, from the little she saw of me at the church the other day, I need fattening up."

Howard chuckled. "Maybe a little."

Vince's face fell slightly, and he pouted. "You should like me the way I am."

"I do." Howard grinned at him and playfully ruffled Vince's hair, only to have his hand batted away barely a second later.

"Cut it out. It doesn't need to look any worse than it already does."

"It's looks great."

"What?"

Howard coughed. "Well, you know..."

Vince smiled and hugged Howard's arm. "Thank you for taking care of me. I don't know how I would have got through this without you. You've been a diamond."

Howard's fingers found their way into Vince's hair again, this time pulling through the strands gently. "What are friends for?"

Vince looked up at him affectionately, noting something in Howard's eyes he hadn't seen before. And had they always been that twinkly? Or that big? And his face was suddenly a lot closer and...

The door banged downstairs and they jumped apart.

"All right?" Naboo said as he trudged up the stairs, Bollo following behind.

Vince resisted the urge to glare at him.

"Vince, your cheeks are red. You ill?" Bollo asked gruffly, throwing down a bag he'd been carrying.

"No, I'm fine – just tired. Actually, Howard and I were gonna call it night, so we'll see you in the morning." Okay, maybe that had been a stupid thing to say, because now the ball was in Howard's court and it could go either way, and Vince was either about to be made very happy, or mortally embarrassed. Time seemed to slow, and Vince was sure years had passed when Howard finally stood, fake yawning as he moved round the sofa.

"Yeah, we've had a long day."

Naboo just shrugged and opened the door of the fridge in the small kitchen, pulling out a few things to make a sandwich with. Bollo sat on the sofa and picked up the remote, flicking through the TV channels.

"Night then," Vince said, and tugged Howard along with him. Outside the bedroom door they paused to look at each other, Vince looking shy and timid.

"Vince," Howard whispered.

"Yeah?"

"You know I'll always be here, don't you?"

Vince smiled, rising up on tiptoes and placing a soft peck against his lips. "I know." He opened the bedroom door and they slipped inside, closing it behind them with a gentle click.

In the living room, Naboo looked at Bollo in amusment.

"What?"

"You didn't notice?"

"Notice what?"

Naboo shook his head. "You'll find out soon enough."

Bollo shrugged and went back to concentrating on his programme.


End file.
